


Content

by AnotherWorld3111



Series: Wincest Drabbles [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: But like also, Canon Compliant, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Reunite, Fluff, Happy Ending, He never came back from hell without it, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Angst, SO, Sam has his soul, Wincest - Freeform, i guess?, implied sex, like very light, reunited, season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 22:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13304193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWorld3111/pseuds/AnotherWorld3111
Summary: When Sam came back from Hell, there was nothing more Dean wanted to do then kiss his brother senseless. And he did, until he regained his own and remembered that he was still with Lisa.So of course, Dean put a stop to it, not letting himself have his brother even though every cell of his body longed and yelled at him to launch himself at Sam. But he didn’t.But after Lisa couldn’t be in the picture anymore... what was stopping Dean after that?Nothing, as it was.





	Content

**Author's Note:**

> Not really sure how I feel about this, especially cuz for the first time, the summary ended up being better than the fic itself, but I just needed some wincest after watching only, what.. 8 episodes of s6 so far?  
> But then again, this is what I get for a mere idea that didn’t even come when I was tryna sleep and I’m supposed to be working on editing my other fic...

  “Sam?”

  “Hey, Dean.”

  He hardly dared to believe it. He refused to believe that he wasn’t hallucinating, that his little brother was actually sitting there, giving him one of his small grins, looking at him and looking very much alive.

  Dean slowly pushed himself up from what he dimly registered to be an old cot. In front of him, Sam kept talking, filling up the silence.

  “I was expecting, uh... I don't know, a hug, some holy water in the face - something.”

  All valid points. Which Dean would have done. Under other circumstances.

  “So I'm dead?” Dean asked, voice hoarse. “This is Heaven? Yellow Eyes killed me, and now-“

  Sam blinked, blanching. “Yellow Eyes? That's what you saw?”

  Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Saw?”

  “You were poisoned.” Sam explained. “So whatever kind of crazy crap you think you been seeing, it's not real.”

  Dean blinked. He still couldn’t - he still wasn’t sure if he dared to even - “So, then, are you... real? Or-or am I still-“ Sam cut him off.

  “I'm real. Here, let me save you the trouble. All me.” His eyes widened, as if to try to reassure Dean by gaze alone.

  Sam took out a blade, holding it up to briefly show it to Dean before sticking out his arm. He visibly braced himself, a single cut, and then blood was dripping down his flesh. But apart from that, no burning skin.

  Sam turned around, walking over to a nearby table. There was a jug of holy water on it, and he poured some salt in it before chugging it down. His face scrunched up as he swallowed, capping the jug before walking away.

  “That's nasty.” He grimaced.

  Meanwhile, Dean felt like the floor was slipping away from under him. “Sammy?” He dared to let himself hope, slowly standing up.

  Sam smiled, obviously able to see it finally hitting through to Dean. “Yeah. It's me.”

  Dean stepped forward... and now right in front of his little brother, who was standing alive and in the flesh... he kissed him.

  Immediately, they were melting against each other, barely staying vertical as Dean practically felt into Sam, letting his little brother support his frame by gripping his hips. Meanwhile, Dean’s hands were frantically reaching upwards, feeling for Sam’s face, latching onto his hair, tugging.

  The moan that fell from Sam’s mouth and into Dean’s own rooted Dean, driving in reality, that his brother was alive, was here, with him, right where he belonged... and that Dean was also Lisa’s.

  The harsh reminder forced Dean to pull away with a gasp, trying to ignore Sam’s swollen slips, glinting in the light from their combined saliva.

  “We can’t - I - Lisa-“ Sam’s face visibly fell, but he blinked, as quickly as it had come, just as quick it was gone, replaced with forced understanding.

  “Yeah, no, I get you. It’s fine, Dean, really.”

  And Dean tried to pretend that his heart wasn’t breaking at that moment.

* * *

  When Sam had come back from Stanford, it took them only days to fall back into bed together, Sam needing the harsh comfort from Jess’s death that Dean so freely offered. But it took weeks, hell, actual months even before Sam was able to comfortably exchange those slow and lazy kisses in the backseat of the impala, taking shelter from the rain and letting the windows fog up from their activities.

  When Dean made Cas wipe away Lisa and Ben’s memories of him, the first thing he did was to threaten Sam that he’d break his little brother’s nose if he ever mentioned them again.

  The next thing he did was drive straight back to the motel, and demand Sam to fuck him until he couldn’t remember his own name.

  Sam obliged.

* * *

  After that, it didn’t take them long to fall back into their regular pattern, finding soft moments to dedicate to each other in between cases, sometimes even during.

  But it was moments like these that Dean treasured the most.

  With Sam above him, slamming his hips into Dean, forcing a groan out of the elder Winchester with each thrust, but never letting Dean look away, peering into the depth’s of Dean’s eyes with his own ever changing colorful eyes, as if he was looking into Dean’s very soul. Sam was pinning Dean’s hands above his head, interlinking their fingers, their palms sweaty but still firmly grasping into each other, desperate for the touch, desperate for the close contact as Dean held Sam tighter, bringing him even closer by wrapping his legs around Sam’s hips, holding on tight. With a grunt, Sam let himself fall on Dean, chest pressed against Dean’s, forehead to forehead, but still refusing to look away, to not even blink. Sam rocked his hips, shoving in with each thrust, punching out gasp after moan after grunt from both the brothers at each and every moment. And when Sam finally spilled, still resolutely moving his hips and forcing his come deeper within Dean, Dean let out a gasp, back arching, eyelids fluttering - but never closing completely - as he came as well, come spurting from his cock and landing on their chests and even their chins.

  And when Sam kissed it all away, licking and lapping and nibbling at Dean’s chin and jaw and lips, Dean let himself sigh, feeling his soul’s contentment at being under his brother, being surrounded by the scent and sight and feel of Sammy.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this better than I did, and I apologize for any and all mistakes as always, seeing as I literally do not have access to any desktop devices to even edit (hence the lack of editing for the other fic as much as I honest to god wanted to)


End file.
